


Tonitruous

by Tsume_Yuki



Series: Female Harry x Marvel Soulmark Stories [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arrogant Thor, F/M, Female Harry Potter, He'll Grow Out Of It, Master of Death Harry Potter, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor's adventures had all followed the same loose outline; charge in, encounter problem, overcome problem with Loki's quick wit and his own glorious might.<br/>So excuse him if he's a little shocked to find '<i>you know, I always thought that'd be said with relief, not horrified awe</i>' face down in a ditch, with no pulse to her wrist or breath in her lungs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Slugging through the thick, wet mud of outerlands, Thor Odinson, crowned prince of the Asgard, the Realm Eternal, grumbled in annoyance.

Behind him, arms folded and a scowl set into his face, Loki trudged after him, as displeased with the situation as Thor himself was.

They had been hunting for the past week in the outskirts of Asgard, and not once had they found any game at all. Loki had burnt up his magical core attempting to figure out just what was wrong with the forest, why there was nothing to hunt, and now didn't even have the energy to strike the mud from their forms.

His younger brother was going to have to visit the healers upon their return, in order for them to fix his magical pathways quicker. Oh sure, they'd heal on their own, but it'd take several months, instead of the week the healers would take.

Still, Thor could sense his younger brother's displeasure; not only had he burnt out his pathways, but he'd still failed to find out why the game was gone. They'd not seen another living creature for the entire week, no matter how much Thor tracked or Loki wove his magic. It would be the first hunt they'd return from empty handed since their days as children.

Young children.

"This is pointless, we should just head back to the palace now."

Loki was always grumpy whenever he was pulled away from his magic and books. Snorting, Thor narrowed his eyes, pushing back another set of bushes as he made his way forwards, resolve burning deep within his stomach.

"Come brother! Where is your sense of adventure?"

He wasn't about to admit that the only reason he refused to turn back was because he was determined to not be beaten by the outerlands.

Loki growled something unfathomable beneath his breath, low enough that Thor failed to catch just what it was he was saying. He got the general gist of it though, and felt his jaw tighten slightly as he grimaced.

So it wasn't pleasant, slogging through the mud with the outerlands all but caking their form, it wasn't the greatest of adventures or the most glorious.

But they would not fail.

They would return with some form of game for their parents to eat the eve of their return. They would. Thor refused to fail.

Pushing another branch out of the way, the golden haired prince only just managed to catch the limb before it smashed back into Loki's unprotected face.

The ungrateful glare his brother offered him had Thor wishing, for just a second, that he'd allowed the branch to smack the younger in his pointed nose.

"Brother, cheer up! I am sure that-"

"Thor."

Were it not for the tone that Loki had taken, Thor would have snapped, would have argued over his brother cutting him off.

 But Loki was serious, his eyes wide and looking down at something.

Spinning around to follow his brother's line of sight, Thor froze at the display before him.

 

Half submerged in the water, a young woman was laying upon the bank of the river, impossibly still and deathly pale.  

 

Dropping the pack he'd been carrying without so much as a second thought, Thor dashed forwards, dropping to his knees beside the young figure, catching Loki copying his movements from the corner of his eye.

With a gentleness he hadn't needed to use since they ventured into the outerlands, Thor flipped the young woman off her stomach and onto her back, flicking the wild tresses of plum coloured hair back from her face, and were the situation not so dire, he'd probably have taken the time to marvel at the colour the river water had darkened her hair to.

"Loki?" Thor questioned with an urgency he'd not felt since that last adventure on Vanaheim.

His younger brother was looking down at the woman, pressing two fingers to her inner wrist, another coming to rest beneath the curve of her nose. Testing her the rate of her breath and blood, Thor realized.

Hastily, he copied his brother's movements, pressing his fingers against the woman's wrist, a wrist that looked so small and pale in his hands.

But there was no thrumming pulse beneath her ivory skin, it was cold to the touch, like the ice that arrived on the winter winds.

"Loki," it came out as more of a choked cry this time, a broken, wounded noise because this wasn't his area of expertise. Thor had taken part in a handful of battles since his coming of age, but never had he ever seen someone die.

Never had he stood close to a body that laid as still as this one. He was always there to save the day, rescue the damsel or protect the children. It was what he and the Warriors Three did. What he, Lady Sif and Loki did.

They saved people, even if it were only from a few rouges that thought they could best the realm.

"It's too late, Thor."

He knew what his brother was saying, but he refused to accept it.

The woman was young, not that far into her adulthood, yet her eyes were closed, her chest still and her blood quiet. She was far too young to die, this wasn't right, couldn’t be right.

Death like this didn't happen, not on Asgard, not in the Realm Eternal.

"We should take her back, find her family," Loki whispered after a moment of silence the two of them having released the woman's still wrists and sat back on their haunches.

Thor blinked slowly, feeling his determination to keep hunting, to secure a prize for his parents, draining right out of him. There were more important things.

There would have to be an investigation, over how this woman was found dead, what she was even doing out here to begin with. Perhaps there was a link between her appearance and the absence of the animals? Her- her body's appearance.

Swallowing, Thor stood up, making his way over to the bags and picking up the lot of them. The weight of all their gear would be far more than what the woman's corpse would be; it was his duty as the older brother to carry as much as he could.

Thor wasn't dishonest with himself, he knew Loki would know far more about treating a dead body with respect than what Thor would manage. He hadn't had to learn yet, but no doubt Loki had already looked up the relevant knowledge.

Turning back to his brother, who was now stood with the woman cradled in his arms, Thor found his mouth dry and his heart sinking in his chest, looking at the dead body of the young woman.

"Come, brother," Thor whispered, subdued, watching as Loki tore his gaze away from the girl's face, from the striking patterned cicatrix that stretched across her forehead and eyelids. Like lightning.

Glancing up, Thor took in the position of the sinking sun, gathering his bearings to begin heading back.

 

And that was when Loki let out the most unmanly scream Thor had ever heard pass between his lips.

 

Twisting around, the eldest prince reached for Mjolnir, but froze at the sight that awaited him. Loki hadn't so much as dropped the woman as he had thrown her to the floor, and he could see why.

She was sitting up, blinking and looking startlingly alive for a dead body.

Thor's breath caught in his throat as the woman stared down at her hands, then looked around the area before her gaze landed on the two of them.

Stepping forwards and putting himself between Loki and this, this, whatever she was, Thor raise the hammer, watching as she flinched back ever so slightly.

Still, he was unable to keep the horror from his voice when he addressed the woman.

"You were dead."

 

She blinked, red brows crinkling over the chartreuse green of her eyes.

Then, she spoke, and the words went hammering through his with more force than even Mjolnir could ever hope to wield.

 

 

"You know, I always thought that'd be said with relief, not horrified awe."


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Sat outside of the healing chambers and still reeling from the shock of the day, Thor found himself slowly tracing the markings that wrapped around his left upper-arm, that'd always coiled around the swell of muscle that rested there.

It'd been five hours since they'd been spoken to him, the woman passing out again before he could even get a name from her, never mind the cause of the circumstances in which they'd found her.

The Splitting marks came in a variety of styles, sizes and colours. Every Aesir had one, wrote somewhere upon their body in the Allspeak, foretelling the first words that their destined one would speak to them. And that woman, that woman had spoken Thor's words.

He'd flown her back to the city, Loki insisting he would make his own way back by horse once he finished inspecting the river in which they had found her. With little thought in mind but the fluttering of the woman's ribs beneath his fingers, Thor had raced into the healing halls, bellowing for assistance.

The healers had sprinted her away, concern heavy in their features and Thor had followed after them. It'd been stupid, the healers kicked him from their halls within seconds.

But not before he could glance upon the markings -the healers had cut away her shirt, which was worryingly blood drenched- that wrapped around the upper curve of the woman's left breast.

' _You were dead_ '.

Certainly not the polite greetings that his parents had shared for their Splitting marks. No, his was a little more eventful apparently.

It burned him, to have to sit out here and wait, to be unable to help the woman that was destined to complete him.

Perhaps more worrying was the cause of his words to her. Why had she been in such a state?

So close to death, nearly snatched away before he could even begin to court her, before he could learn her name, the flowers she favoured or how well she fit within his arms.

Carrying her to hospital didn't really count.

The door opened, and Thor barely even registered one of the healers stepping out, only to dodge out of his way as he slid into the room.

There were still two healers mingling about, sending cautious glances over at the occupant of the bed.

The woman was sat up now, blinking with a look of confusion on her face. Her eyes were perhaps an even brighter green than he'd remembered, and Thor cautiously made his way over to sit by her side, noting the way the woman watched his every movement.

Once he was within a few feet of her bed, Thor dropped into a fluid bow, glancing up at the woman from underneath his eyelashes and enjoyed the way her lips twitched up in a nervous smile.

"It is good to see you well, my Lady. I am Thor Odinson."

He waited for the surprises the shock of being saved by the Asgardian prince.

But it never came, no recognition ever lit her eyes.

She remained as cautious as ever, worrying her lips back and forth.

"Hariel Potter," she offered with a tight dip of her head, looking nervous and curious all at once.

Her name was lovely.

Thor's lips twitched up at her name, running it through his head again and again.

Hariel Potter.

It sounded almost like the name of a resident of Alfheim. She was pretty enough to hail from that land, certainly, though he was reasonably sure none of them had hair as red as she.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Hariel, I have been looking forwards to our meeting for many years."

He hadn't bothered to summon up the chain-mail to cover his arms, and he slowly offered her the marked limb, allowing it to rest within her line of sight.

Green eyes flashed over questioningly, but Thor could only smile, anticipation thrumming through his every nerve ending at what was about to happen. Hariel's delicately thin fingers slowly brushed against the curves of his soulmark, and the letters shimmered in response to her proximity, glittering with the contact.

"Why- Why are they shining?"

"It is a sign of our compatibility, that our souls are two halves of a whole," Thro spoke gravely, the realisation that something wasn't quite right here -she didn't react to his name, her features were just a little off for an Asgardian, her accent strange, _she hadn't died_ \- all adding up to one single conclusion.

She wasn't Asgardian at all, wasn't of Alfheim either.

And, and there was only one realm, according to his brother, whom had no knowledge of Asgardian Splittings.

This woman was of Midgard?

How has she ended up here? And why was it she seemed capable of resurrecting herself?

"Where is it you hail from, Lady Hariel?"

"Godric's Hollow, England," Hariel spoke, her fingers drawing back and away from his markings.

Almost hesitantly, she reached for the neckline of her borrowed shirt, drawing it down just enough so that he could see the familiar swirl of his own handwriting, planted above the swell of her breast.

Thor aborted his hasty reach as the last second, instead turning a burning gaze upon the woman.

"May I?"

The Lady Hariel, his soul splitting, swallowed harshly, but gave a tight nod of consent.

"You may."

Exhilarated, Thor ran his fingers across the supple flesh that was dyed with his words, tracing each one and admiring the way they simmered golden beneath his touch.

He felt Hariel's steady heartbeat, so brilliant and wondrous a sound where what seemed like mere moments ago it had been absent.

The expanding of her chest as his Splitting drew breath, the rise of her ribs beneath his fingertips, was his warning before she spoke.

"So, this... We're soul mates then?"

Perhaps a crude term for it, certainly lacking the elegance behind the Splitting story, but-

"Aye, if you wish to use the common man's term. Her lips tilted up in a hesitant smile, such green eyes flickering to his.

"Well, you seem nice enough, I suppose I could have done a lot worse."

And that startled a laugh from Thor's throat.

He sat, utterly charmed, as she begins to question the concept of Splittings. Evidentially she was a scholar, more so than he at least. Perhaps that was for the best, the brains to his brawn.

Not to say he held no intellect, but to know the future queen of Asgard was far from stupid was reassuring.

Then, she told him of her life, of her world.

And Thor was enchanted.

He failed to notice his mother and father appearing in the healing chamber, failed to realise enough time of day has slipped away for Loki to have arrived upon horseback and joined them.

No, Thor listened as his Splitting spoke of her life, and he fell more and more under the spell of Hariel Potter.

If there were ever a doubt that she was not worthy of being his Splitting, for sure it would be slain when faced with the tale of her life.

She was utterly perfect for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we see some of Thor's arrogance bleeding through. He thinks he deserves Harry simply because he's Thor, the golden prince. Obviously come Thor movie, that'll change.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

Hariel Lilian Potter.

It was a magnificent name, falling off of the tongue with a sense of royalty and wealth dripping in every syllable.

That she was physically quite striking, what with her hair like apples and fire -having dried of the river water that turned it plum in shade- and her sharp green eyes, was appropriate too.

Yet- "Someone struck you with a curse meant to kill?!" -She came with so many enemies.

Luckily enough, enemies that would never reach Asgard.

Hariel had been discharged from the healing chambers not an hour ago, and Thor had happily guided her to the private dining hall his parents were waiting at. In the process, they just happened to pass that vast majority of Asgard's greater sights.

The Bifrost glittering in the distance, floating sports dome in the sky, the bountiful marketplace. His stomach, his whole innards, bubbled with joy at every awed gasp, at every thrilled glance. This was what he had to offer her, the riches of Asgard, his entire world, which she would fit right into.

He just knew it.

Hariel walked with her hands hanging by the sides of her thighs, sometimes pocketing one, but never both at the same time. They were small appendages, certainly not made for any form of physical battle.

But, as she used magic -like his brother, like his mother- he would not dare to doubt her powers.

Even if she was only just starting to learn magic without the aid of a wand.

Reaching out, Thor took one of her hands within his own, wrapping their fingers together and planting a kiss on the edge of her knuckles when she gave him a questioning glance. She did look ever so beautiful, the fine line of summer and autumn wrapped up in physical form.

"So, dinner, with your parents?" Hariel spoke the words as if they were foreign, as if the mere concept of dining with a suitor's parents was incompatible.

Which, quite frankly, it should not be.

Only Asgardians had Splitting marks, every other realm looked for, and courted, their other half the old fashioned way. Thor can't quite believe that Hariel has never been courted by another; she's far too lovely, far too important to her realm, for that to have not happened.

Still, a part of him twinged inside, recognising the fact that while Hariel may dine and converse with his parents, he would never be able to return the gesture, given the fact her parents had died protecting her.

Such heroics, truly he would have been proud- no, he was proud to match to the daughter of such heroes.

"Aye. I believed they are overjoyed I have managed to match to such a wondrous woman."

Hariel smiled up at him, looking the slightest bit nervous but not from his presence, or the joining of their fingers.

No, it was the hesitation of someone who knew they were about to say something unfavourable. His Splitting ploughed in anyway.

"Your mother assured me you'll grow out of your arrogance."

"My arrogance?" Thor repeated, amused, with a winning smile to his lips. Hariel cocked an eyebrow up at him before turning her gaze to the horizon.

"Splittings mean that, for all that you can potentially become, you have the chance to match one another. It's not perfect, and you do have to work, to fight, for it. But it can be so worth it," she paused, twisting back around to look at him with a small but sure smile, "that's what your mother told me."

Well, it appeared he could always trust his mother to fight their corner.

Clearly she approved of Hariel.

Father, Father played things a little closer to the chest. But, Thor failed to see anything that would mean his father's disapproval.

And Hariel used magic. By default, Loki would love her.

"Well, I am sure we can work on your flaws," Thor bantered, the joke lifting his face into a smile and startling a laugh out of Hariel.

"If I end up with gaining any sort of flaw here, it'll be falling in love with you."

Placing one hand above his heart, a mockery of a wounded sound left from between Thor's lips, Hariel elbowing him in the ribs as he did so. None, not even Sif and the Warriors Three, had been this carefree, this familiar with him upon their first meeting.

Hariel was bright and seemed quite content to spend her time with him; and to think, he'd heard newly met Splittings could be awkward with one another! Ha.

"I've got some friends, they're practically family, back on earth.. Er, Midgard." Hmm, how strange. Well, meeting the rabble might be interesting.

"Then I shall venture there, and win their hearts."

"Maybe when you tone the hubris down a bit."

Thor grinned, tucking a lock of Hariel's wild hair behind her ear.

"Then we must pray for this magnificent miracle in the future. Until such a time, let us go dine."


End file.
